


got a fever (so can you check?)

by suheafoams



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, essentially two idiots being like no YOU'RE the hot one and then going ...oh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suheafoams/pseuds/suheafoams
Summary: “Everyone is becoming increasingly ready to climb you like a tree,” Seoho says. “Is that what you want, Geonhak? To beclimbed like a tree?”All Geonhak can do is grimace helplessly at Seoho. “Like an actual tree or…”“Nevermind,” Seoho says. “Subtlety and humor are lost on you. No fun.” Then he groans, almost like he’s remembered something he can’t believe he forgot. “Okay, but you can’t tell me you didn’t at leastkind ofknow what reaction you were going to get when the sink exploded and you came back into the office with your white dress shirt soaking wet and completely see through. Sleeves rolled up to the forearms and everything.”Geonhak’s cheeks are definitely red now from how much he feels them burning. “What was I supposed to do?” he asks dryly. “Take it off?”
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 40
Kudos: 200





	got a fever (so can you check?)

**Author's Note:**

> (going through it) (wrote this very quickly to hold onto some semblance of human fulfillment while life kicks my ass) (please enjoy) 
> 
> alternate summary: seoho tries to call geonhak out for being a Tease and geonhak's like (pikachu shocked face) no you

Geonhak is baffled when Seoho concludes, over their excessive-as-usual order of too many skewers and marinated eggplant and glass noodles, that Geonhak must be doing _it_ on purpose. Geonhak does not know what _it_ is referring to. 

“You can’t possibly not know what I’m talking about,” Seoho says, as he tries to find the right angle to properly dip his chicken in the little flat saucer of extra spice. Geonhak helps him by using a clean spoon to push the spice into a smaller, higher pile so that the chicken can reach, and Seoho makes a delighted noise of success that has Geonhak’s chest twisting affectionately. 

“I, in fact, have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geonhak reiterates. One of the waitresses comes by their table, asks for the third time whether their meal is going fine when it’d only been two minutes ago that she came around to refill their water glasses, and Seoho gives Geonhak a pointed look that’s filled with something smug, something knowing. 

“Like that,” Seoho whispers, after the waitress has made sure both of them see her friendly, gracious smile before she returns to her station at the cash register. “Everyone starts tripping and falling head over heels for you because you do that weird flirty thing that gets them all worked up when you don’t even mean anything by it.” 

Geonhak blinks at his coworker. Friend. Personal menace to his emotional peace and tranquility. Footer of more than half of their dinner bills because Seoho constantly and consistently finds new ways to distract Geonhak while he slides his credit card towards the servers. 

“...You’re fucking with me,” he eventually says, and Seoho gives him a look of faux-offense that is unjustified because Seoho fucks with Geonhak more often than he doesn’t, so he has no right to be upset if Geonhak doesn’t take him seriously—

“Why would I ever do that?” Seoho asks sweetly, and Geonhak snorts. 

“What does it say about you if I can answer that question a hundred different ways?” 

“It says that I’m victim to someone who’s intent on pinning me as the antagonist—” 

“Seoho, you _like_ antagonizing people,” Geonhak points out, and Seoho shrugs, not disagreeing. 

“I guess you don’t have it in you to break people’s hearts on purpose…” Seoho rests his chin on his hand. He’s a neat eater, but his lips are glossy with skewer grease, and they’re curved into a cat-like grin of mischief. “Or blue ball them.” 

Geonhak sputters. “Are you calling me a cocktease.” 

“Respectfully, yes,” Seoho says, laughing, and he shrinks back when Geonhak makes a move as if to grab his shoulder from across the table. “I said _respectfully!_ ” 

“Do you think crashing into someone’s car becomes okay if you say that you did it _respectfully_?” Geonhak retorts, which only makes Seoho’s laughter turn even more obnoxious. “Asshole.” 

“I am interested in the greater good, Geonhak,” Seoho says. Geonhak can feel the corner of his own mouth twitch, and he’s sure that Seoho takes notice, because Seoho’s antics thrive off of genuine amusement from whoever he’s torturing and his smile consequently grows wider as he continues with, “I’m on a mission to preserve the sanity of everyone who comes into contact with you and is immediately bowled over by your bumbling muscle-ly boy-next-door puppy appeal.” 

“Hard to believe considering you take mental note of what every single employee in the office is mildly terrified of so that you can surprise them on their birthday,” Geonhak says. He does not address Seoho’s remark-slash-compliment on Geonhak’s _appeal,_ which probably doesn’t mean anything. Seoho’s personality has him spouting all sorts of nonsense; it’s not a normal day for him if he doesn’t say at least _one_ ridiculous thing. 

“I compensate by giving them their birthday cakes right after.” Seoho waves his hands dismissively. “But that’s besides the point.” He leans forward, since Geonhak now has his arms folded across his chest and that means Seoho is no longer threatened by a potential chokehold. “So you didn’t know what it would do to people when you showed up with that bleach job and that haircut?” 

Geonhak shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He runs a hand through his dark silver hair, black roots growing out nearly an inch since Keonhee had taken the liberty of experimenting on him, and he can feel a blush coming on at what Seoho’s implying. 

“The sighs, when you walked in that first day,” Seoho adds. Geonhak remembers no such thing, only really recalls that Seoho had stared at him for a bit before smiling and telling Geonhak he looked handsome— “The amount of _virtual_ sighing and wheezing I had to endure in the girls’ group chat—” 

“Why are you in the girls’ group chat?” 

“Because I wanted to hear about their makeup recommendations, plus none of them like taking smoking breaks and I don’t like taking coffee breaks,” Seoho says, as if that makes all the sense in the world. “Get with the program, Geonhak.” 

“Isn’t it normal to be interested when a coworker does something new to their hair?” Geonhak asks. 

Seoho smirks at him. “Is it still normal if after a month they’re sighing every time you walk by their cubicle or touch your hair like you’re in a shampoo commercial?” 

It’s always been a habit for Geonhak to mess with his hair, especially if he’s nervous. He’s not _trying_ to be attractive or seductive or anything, but Seoho’s good with words and ultimately he’s going to corner Geonhak with assertions that Geonhak can’t sneak his way out of. 

If Geonhak knew how to be suave, he _would_ use every bit of that knowledge to his advantage _._ He and Seoho would maybe be more than friends, if that were the case, but Geonhak is unsure of himself when it comes to managing his social interactions and it’s difficult to take a step forward with Seoho when it could force him to take several steps back. 

“The hair isn’t that bad, honestly,” Seoho says. Geonhak pouts at him, and Seoho laughs again. “Not that much of a distraction, I mean. Giwook’s hair looked so much like Cookie Monster ice cream from that shop I took you to that I wanted to chew on it at one point, but there’s other things, too.” 

Geonhak wants to tell Seoho not to chew on people’s hair for any reason, but he figures Seoho knows better than that. Probably. “...Other things?” 

“Like when the boss brought her six year old daughter into work because there was a scheduling issue with her usual daycare place,” Seoho says. “Hearts were falling out of everyone’s eyes when she sat in your lap and you talked to her quietly while you worked. Then to make things even worse, you _tied her hair_. In _perfect pigtails._ ” 

“I like kids,” Geonhak murmurs, and Seoho nods dutifully, like he’s all too familiar with Geonhak’s spiel on how wonderful and cute kids are and doesn’t need to hear it again. 

“I know,” Seoho says. “Believe me, I know.” He looks a little fond, but Geonhak is not sure whether that fondness is directed at him or the lamb skewer Seoho is currently devouring. “What about that time at the company party where you took off your rings all sexy and then. Smashed that pumpkin like it was made out of tissue paper.” 

“I didn’t want to participate,” Geonhak whines. “Youngjo dropped out last minute.” The tips of his ears feel hot, and he doesn’t know why any of these things count as suggestive gestures when it’s just him being...himself. 

After all, he could think of a few people (mostly just _one_ man who may or may not be sitting across from him) who better fit whatever pheromone radiating heartthrob phenomenon Seoho is describing. 

“Everyone is becoming increasingly ready to climb you like a tree,” Seoho says. “Is that what you want, Geonhak? To be _climbed like a tree?_ ” 

All Geonhak can do is grimace helplessly at Seoho. “Like an actual tree or…” 

“Nevermind,” Seoho says. “Subtlety and humor are lost on you. No fun.” Then he groans, almost like he’s remembered something he can’t believe he forgot. “Okay, but you can’t tell me you didn’t at least _kind of_ know what reaction you were going to get when the sink exploded and you came back into the office with your white dress shirt soaking wet and completely see through. Sleeves rolled up to the forearms and everything.” 

Geonhak’s cheeks are definitely red now from how much he feels them burning. “What was I supposed to do?” he asks dryly. “Take it off?” 

Seoho pauses. Like he’s considering that option, maybe, and then he smacks Geonhak in the arm. “You should have screamed for help from inside of the restroom. Youngjo would have probably done that.” 

“You know Youngjo doesn’t scream for help ever, he just kind of flails his way through all of his issues like one of those waving inflatable tube things,” Geonhak says. Then he clears his throat, because there _is_ an explanation for this one. “I was going to make a trip to my car, but I had an extra shirt in my backpack.” 

“Right,” Seoho says, not bothering to hide his skepticism. “Because you’re totally not the type of guy who takes five flights of stairs instead of the elevator to burn more calories.” 

...Seoho isn’t wrong. 

But Geonhak had figured it would be less embarrassing to look like a wet sheepdog walking through one floor instead of traveling through five and then the parking lot. If he’d had any intentions, they’d only involve getting Seoho to somehow coo over him in his roundabout, dismissive way that he tended to do when he was clearly concerned about Geonhak but trying not to show it. 

Seoho has always been deemed an all-rounder in their company, but the title applies outside of work too, what with Seoho’s personality comprising so many different traits that seem to be in direct opposition but somehow coexist. Like how he’s good at reading the atmosphere and maintaining it, good at dissecting emotions for other people as long none of those emotions are directed at him. 

Like how he’s insinuating that Geonhak is _seducing_ everyone, when Seoho has that _smile_ and those _eyes_ and the stupid charming _eyebrow raise_ that happens every time he likes a compliment he’s received but is also embarrassed _—_

Geonhak licks his slightly chapped lips, as he asks, “What about you, then?” 

“What about me?” Seoho tilts his head. Maybe he’s messing with Geonhak again, or he is really just that clueless. Maybe they’re both idiots. 

Geonhak makes a vague gesture that’s meant to encompass Seoho’s general...existence, but Seoho doesn’t seem any less confused, just blinks at Geonhak for further clarification. 

“There are plenty of people who’d also…” Geonhak looks down at the small white rip in the green seating material of their booth. Adjusts his rings even though they don’t need any adjusting. 

“Use your words, Geonhak,” Seoho says. He points at the plate of beef skewers. “Do you need more beef to power up your pea brain?” 

“Shut _up._ ” Geonhak wants to put his face in his hands, he’s so flustered. When he looks up though, all he can focus on is the deep v-neck of Seoho’s leopard print sweater, and the pale swath of chest and collarbone that peeks out from underneath. The way Seoho’s hands only show if he shakes the sleeves back or repeatedly rolls them up, and the cute, natural curl of his otherwise bleach-damaged hair against his temples and his neck. 

“You’re always putting on lip balm,” Geonhak croaks out, finally, and Seoho furrows his brow. _It makes me want to kiss you,_ he doesn’t say out loud. That would probably give context, but it’s context that Seoho might not want to hear from Geonhak, whose touches he always shys away from and whose compliments he always deflects more than compliments coming from other people. 

“Because I don’t like when they’re dry,” Seoho says. “I know the way I put it on is weird, but I don’t think anyone’s into that because our office is filled with mostly boring, normal folk, you know—” 

Geonhak mentally releases a sob. “And you’re always wearing your suits with the top few buttons undone, these days.”

“The AC is broken,” Seoho says. “I would perish if I had to wear my collar buttoned all the way up. And I’m not in sales either, so it doesn’t matter how casual I look, right?”

It’s not about how casual he looks, but how much it makes Geonhak want to rip through all of the buttons—

After all, Seoho is very, _very_ pretty. Whether he has glasses on, or contacts, whether he’s spent extra time on his eye makeup for a get together between friends or he shows up to Geonhak’s apartment with a bare face and a bag of snacks in his hand as compensation for intruding. The lunar curve of his eye smile is the same, delicate and sweet and soft, and they’re the one part of his face that most often gives his true emotions away, makes it easier for Geonhak to read him even when Seoho is trying his best to be imperceptible. 

There are also Seoho’s shoulders, and chest, and _thighs._ Seoho doesn’t have his body on full display the way Youngjo does, doesn’t like drawing attention to himself in the same manner, but Geonhak has seen enough to get curious, to _want._ He’s thought about what it would be like, to hold Seoho close and kiss him on the mouth and jaw and _neck,_ to make Seoho feel beautiful through the warmth of calm, gentle fingertips that doesn’t scare Seoho off _—_

Geonhak is captivated no matter how much he tries to ignore it for the sake of their friendship. Seoho is smart, and silly, and so wonderfully _cute_ when he’s being himself even if it means Geonhak’s being tormented in more ways than one. 

“Don’t all the women have lighters in their purses in case you forget yours?” Geonhak says. His brain is turning to liquid, and he’s grasping at whatever fragments of thoughts are passing through his mind as a last resort at countering Seoho’s earlier arguments. “Most of them don’t even smoke.” 

“I don’t think those lighters are specifically for me,” Seoho says, humming thoughtfully. “Good fight, Geonhak, but that’s different from _you_ doing the classic wet white t-shirt thing and setting everyone metaphorically on fire.” 

It’s probably because Geonhak’s so tired of it all that he blurts out, 

“Well, if I have to remain calm through your cropped sweaters and your butt in that one pair of light wash jeans and just your general _everything_ , then whoever’s attracted to me for whatever reason will just have to put on their grown adult pants and _cope_ with their pitiful pining like how I’m doing.” 

Speechless, Seoho stares at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before Geonhak realizes what he’s said. 

“Sorry,” Geonhak says, immediately, preparing to backtrack no matter how miserable the end result will be, but Seoho shakes his head. “I know it’s not—” 

“Are you…” Seoho bites his lip, and he grabs Geonhak’s hand from where it’s resting on the table. Geonhak’s palm is probably sweaty, but having Seoho’s warm fingers intertwined with his makes Geonhak tremble less. “Does that mean you’re into me? Romantically, or well, I guess it could just be se—”

“Both,” Geonhak says. He wants to laugh at Seoho’s precision with words, how he wants to make everything distinctly clear so that Geonhak doesn’t feel misunderstood. “I just like you. A lot.” 

“Oh,” Seoho says, and he seems to lose whatever bravado he’s operating on because he pulls his hand away, leaving Geonhak’s feeling a little empty. He chuckles, but it sounds nervous. “That’s not a bad joke, is it?” 

“Am I the sort of person who would mess with you like that?” Geonhak asks. He does bicker with Seoho, play the occasional prank here and there when Hwanwoong suggests it, goes a little too hard on Seoho if they’re playing basketball or soccer, but he would never, _ever_ hurt anyone, much less Seoho, by playing with their feelings. 

“No,” Seoho admits. “But it’s just…” he smiles thinly, and Geonhak wants so badly to kiss away that lingering insecurity that he often sees in the outskirts of Seoho’s deceivingly nonchalant character. Seoho is all smiles and superficial cheer, but much less confident when it’s about how much love he thinks he’s allowed to receive. “...I figured you weren’t into the big and broad and annoying type.” 

“Just my shitty luck that I am, huh?” Geonhak says, and that makes Seoho laugh, but the sound of it is a lot richer. Happier. “So what’s your answer?” 

“My answer?” 

“You know what I’m asking, you buffoon,” Geonhak says, which earns him a displeased noise from Seoho. 

“I’m not a buffoon.” Seoho’s ears are bright red, even so, and it gives Geonhak the extra boost of confidence he needs to be playful. 

“Would you rather _not_ be a buffoon, or be my buffoon?” 

“The first—” Seoho replies without missing a beat, and he wheezes when Geonhak shoots out his hand to grab him by the shoulder. “Ah, _ow,_ I am so utterly _honored_ to be your buffoon, Geonhakkie~” 

“Playing nice now, I see,” Geonhak says, but he’s satisfied with the Seoho version of an endearment and lets go of Seoho’s shoulder. There’s a steady burn in his chest, too, that he guesses has something to do with discovering that their feelings towards each other are the _same_ , and the implications are… 

It means Geonhak is allowed to want to know Seoho more, allowed to call Seoho his, allowed to ask Seoho to take him _home—_

“I _am_ nice,” Seoho says. “By default.”

“You could be nicer,” Geonhak says. “Could stop saying you smell chicken every time I step near the stove and maybe replace that with kisses.” 

“Right. Kisses,” Seoho mumbles, and he almost sounds _distressed_ by the topic being brought up.

“I mean,” Geonhak says, suddenly feeling guilty. “I won’t...I won’t push you.” 

“No, it’s not that,” Seoho says. He scratches at the side of his neck, and turns even redder. “I’ve just...never kissed anyone before.” 

For an undetermined amount of time, Geonhak tries to work out some mature, comforting answer to that statement in his brain before he thinks _fuck it,_ and calls the waitress to ask for the bill. 

“Why are you—” Seoho fidgets. “Is it that bad?” Geonhak can hear the insecurity again, that boyish uncertainty, which is definitely going to get covered up by Seoho’s fake laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes, and he quickly interrupts before Seoho can jump to worse conclusions. 

_I am going to kiss the shit out of you,_ Geonhak wants to say, but Seoho looks a lot like a frightened hamster right now and Geonhak should probably not add to that bewilderment. 

“I like that a lot more than I should, and I would be very happy if you let me take you home and kiss you silly,” is the formal jumble of words that comes out of his mouth instead. 

The silence that follows has Geonhak worried that he’s messed up, or something, until Seoho nods and says quietly, “Yes, please.” 

(Geonhak does his best not to drive too much faster than the speed limit when they’re going back to his apartment.

Seoho’s mouth is very soft. Geonhak can’t wait to wake up to him every morning.) 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! (if there were any really funny typos ill come back and cry at myself in the morning for leaving a Good impression) 
> 
> if u like dis. drop a comment. (begging emoji)


End file.
